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The
first port of call on Tony Blair's farewell tour, after announcing
that he would relinquish the post of prime minister on June 27,
was Paris, where the formalities included a gracious reception by
Jacques Chirac. There were profound disagreements between the two
of them on matters ranging from Europe to the war in Iraq, and on
occasion the acrimony spilled into the public sphere. But there
were evidently no recriminations at their encounter last month,
with both of them secure in the knowledge that the other would soon
be out of office. The courtesy call was followed in short order
by a true meeting of minds when Blair called on Nicolas Sarkozy
just days before the latter was sworn in as Chirac's successor.
Earlier
in May, French citizens had turned out in force for the second round
of the presidential election, a contest between Sarkozy and the
Socialist candidate, Segolene Royal. If the latter had won, she
would have become France's first female head of state. In the event,
she could only muster 47 per cent of the vote. One of the main differences
between the two contenders was that whereas Sarkozy was able to
articulate a clear vision for France, Royal offered a more muddled
picture of the future. To some extent, this is symptomatic of ostensibly
social-democratic parties throughout the west: they are generally
fearful of proposing measures that could be construed as socialistic,
and wary at the same time of seeming overly enthusiastic about neoliberal
economics. Invariably the consequence is a mishmash aimed at creating
the impression of significant ideological differences between the
conservative and social-democratic sides of politics, whereas in
fact the divide has steadily been diminishing over the past two
decades.
It
should nonetheless have been relatively simple for Royal to put
some clear blue water between herself and Sarkozy, given that the
latter's agenda includes insinuations pinched from the platform
of the far right. To her credit, she did make an effort, but it
came too late. Royal also launched her campaign well before Sarkozy
did, and may have peaked too early. There were avoidable gaffes
along the way, and it didn't help that the Socialist Party, headed
by her husband, was never fully behind her. Sarkozy, too, alienated
prominent figures on the right, not least Chirac, but it mattered
less in his case, because he was able to enthuse crucial sections
of the electorate, not least the votaries of the ageing extremist
leader Jean-Marie Le Pen.
A
couple of years ago, while he was interior minister, Sarkozy attracted
a fair measure of notoriety for insinuating that the alienated youths
of North African origin in the banlieues - or deprived suburbs -
of France were like scum that must be washed away with a power hose.
His remarks were widely construed as racist; not entirely surprisingly,
they helped to consolidate his support in certain quarters.
Last
month's polling date revealed, interestingly, that the relatively
youthful Sarkozy enjoyed a higher level of support among middle-aged
and elderly citizens, while a clear majority of younger voters favoured
Royal. This is intriguing, given that "Sarko the American"
- as he's known among his detractors, although in Washington the
intended insult was perceived as a badge of honour - intends to
shake up the status quo, whereas Sego (as Royal has inevitably been
nicknamed) is likely to have offered greater continuity.
Sarkozy's
plans on the economic front include making it easier for employers
to stretch the 35-hour working week and more "flexible"
- the buzzword across much of the world for stripping workers of
rights earned after decades, if not centuries, of struggle - conditions
for employees. A tougher stance on immigration and immigrants is
also widely expected, notwithstanding the fact that Sarkozy's Hungarian
and Sephardic origins suggest he, too, falls in that category.
Some of the profoundest changes may occur on the foreign policy
front, where post-war France has hitherto maintained a stance independent
of the United States. Sarkozy has superficially opposed the war
in Iraq (which is hardly surprising, given that Chirac's resistance
to the American-led misadventure was supported by about 90 per cent
of the population), but broadly favours greater cooperation and
far cosier relations with the US. He caused some surprise by picking
a veteran Socialist - Medecins Sans Frontieres' founder Bernard
Kouchner - as his foreign minister, but the crucial aspect of this
choice is that Kouchner is a renowned interventionist and the only
prominent French Socialist who favoured the overthrow of Saddam
Hussein via an invasion.
It
is possible, of course, that Sarkozy's policies will be noticeably
less radical than his campaign rhetoric: a great deal will depend
on the size of the majority his party is able to muster in this
month's parliamentary elections. But the fact is that last month
France voted for change, and it may well get more than it bargained
for, from a man whose marriage is shakier than his ideology, and
who has nurtured presidential ambitions since childhood.
It
is telling that Sarko and Sego both looked up to Blair as something
of a role model. The British administration was reasonably warm
towards Royal until Sarkozy formally declared his candidacy, whereupon
it swiftly switched its allegiances. The developments in France
are likely to have figured prominently in the talks Blair held on
the Washington leg of his journey, once he and George W. Bush wearied
of expressing their admiration for each other. It was a sickening
spectacle, particularly in view of the havoc they have conspired
to wreak in Iraq, even though former president Jimmy Carter did
his best to ruin the aftertaste of the love-in by describing Bush
as the worst tenant in the history of the White House, and accurately
accusing Blair of having aided and abetted the madness of King George.
What
is not known is whether, during his tête-à-tête
with Blair, Bush broached the matter of an upcoming job vacancy
at the World Bank. The bank's president, Paul Wolfowitz, announced
his decision to walk away at the end of this month after weeks of
mounting pressure and speculation.
Wolfowitz was among the more prominent neoconservative ideologues
to be given a policy-making role by Bush at the start of his first
term. Named as Donald Rumsfeld's deputy in the all-important Department
of Defence, he played an almost unparalleled role in instigating
the invasion of Iraq, while his arrogance contributed to his unpopularity
among Pentagon staff. Once he realised his beloved war had gone
awry and was probably beyond rescue, he left his government post
(well before Rumsfeld was unceremoniously dumped) and Bush rewarded
his incompetence by naming him head of the World Bank.
The bank's staff were none too pleased, but were willing to give
him a chance. There was a slight hitch, though. Wolfowitz's partner,
the Arab-born British citizen Shaha Ali Riza, was a bank employee,
and the bank board's ethics committee decided that professional
supervision by her boyfriend would be inappropriate. Wolfowitz was
miffed, but proposed a way out: she would be seconded to the State
Department while remaining on the bank's payroll. He renegotiated
her salary and conditions of employment, and apparently did not
run them by the ethics committee. Riza ended up in an evidently
ineffective section of the State Department devoted to spreading
democracy in the Middle East, on tax-free wages substantially higher
than those of Condoleezza Rice.
This
sort of behaviour didn't quite gel with Wolfowitz's anti-corruption
campaign at the World Bank, while his superciliousness continued
to aggravate relations with the bank staff. Demands for his resignation
first became public early this year, and kept gaining momentum.
The Europeans on the board were particularly upset, but it soon
became clear that hardly anyone wanted him to stay on. The White
House initially backed Wolfowitz, but its support turned lukewarm
before long. It must have taken an exceptionally high quantity of
gall for Wolfowitz to hang on, but he did so until last month. He
finally went on the condition that there be no formal record of
his wrongdoing. Of course, what he can't do anything about is the
public perception.
The
confluence of his exit with that of Blair prompted conjecture that
the latter may be sounded out for the post. Nothing appears to have
come out of it: either the White House doesn't trust him sufficiently,
or he simply wasn't interested. Nothing could stop him, however,
from visiting his favourite part of the world: the Green Zone in
Baghdad, where he reiterated several of his deeply flawed arguments
about why the occupation of Iraq was such a grand idea and how good
the medium-term prospects are, notwithstanding the ongoing troubles.
It
was to a large extent Iraq that undid Blair's prime ministership.
The British people will long remember the series of lies he told
in order to guarantee his government a subordinate, semi-relevant
role in the aggression and occupation, and his recent statements
suggest his capacity for mendacity remains undiminished - unless
he is completely delusional, in which case his abode ought to have
been a psychiatric facility rather than No.10 Downing Street. Last
year, even Blair loyalists threw up their hands in despair when
he refused to call for the cessation of hostilities in Lebanon pending
a go-ahead from the Bush administration.
On
the domestic front, a degree of investment in health and education
has been accompanied by moves towards privatisation of those spheres,
on a scale that Margaret Thatcher would not have dared to contemplate
20 years ago. In other words, Blair in some respects has proved
to be a better vehicle for the Thatcherite agenda than Maggie herself.
Britain's great multicultural project, too, has floundered amid
the war on terror, and the July 7, 2005, atrocities on the London
Underground paved the way for circumstances that allow Britain to
boast the highest level of surveillance in the world, amid growing
disparities of wealth.
There
has, no doubt, been progress on the Northern Ireland front, where
the bitter foes of yesterday now work side by side - and sometimes
even together - in the Stormont assembly. Devolution in Scotland
and Wales could qualify as a positive development, although it's
notable that the pro-independence Scottish National Party edged
out Blair's Labour in last month's polls. That was in keeping with
a national trend whereby Labour was greeted by its worst local election
results in 30 years. In the general elections two years ago, the
party was returned to power with a reduced but nonetheless substantial
majority that was based on about 35 per cent of the popular vote
(and, if you include the abstentions, less than 25 per cent support
among the electorate).
The
anointment of chancellor of the exchequer Gordon Brown as Blair's
successor has prompted calls for a snap poll. Were one to be called,
there's no guarantee that Labour would lose, although the Conservatives
have improved their standing of late, whereas the Liberal-Democrats
have lost a largish segment of the appeal they acquired as a result
of their principled opposition to the Iraq war.
Thirteen years ago,
Blair staved off competition from Brown for the Labour leadership
by promising him that, if voted into power, he would make way for
Brown after two terms in power. He broke that promise, as prime
ministers often do, and the past couple of years have been characterised
by constant acrimony between the two highest elected officials in
the land. Their differences, however, are based on personality rather
than ideology, and no substantive drift away from the Blair agenda
can be expected under Brown, although he may be slightly more measured
in some respects. And perhaps he can avoid being tainted by the
cash-for-honours scandal, whereby Labour allegedly offered titles
in exchange for donations to the party coffers.
The involvement of close Blair aides made him the first British
prime minister to be interviewed by Scotland Yard in connection
with a criminal investigation. Perhaps a war crimes probe would
more readily yield evidence of guilt, providing a suitable coda
for a decade-long tenure during which positive achievements were
overwhelmingly outweighed by Tony Blair's irresistible attraction
to the hazardous fantasies peddled by a bunch of misguided muttonheads
on the other side of the Atlantic. As a consequence, the crux of
his legacy can be summarised in a four-letter word: Iraq.
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